


So fluorescent under these lights

by zizizrites



Series: Drunk (In Love) verse [1]
Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Barebacking, Bottom Zayn, Established Relationship, M/M, Top Liam, and because tio fucked me up, just another silly pwp because i'm awful basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-28 23:53:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6350656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zizizrites/pseuds/zizizrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>Exclusive: Zayn Malik steps out of Liam Payne’s flat after hot night in Manhattan penthouse</b>
</p>
<p>  <i>Yesterday evening the internet caught on fire after photos of singer Zayn Malik and socialite Liam Payne entering Mr. Payne’s building in downtown reached various gossip outlet.</i></p>
<p>  <i>The couple was spotted earlier in the evening at a party […] and they were reported leaving together […]</i></p>
<p>  <i>After what we can only assume was a night of feisty intrigue, judging by the serious case of bed-hair Malik was sporting, the up-and-coming superstar stepped in the chilly New York air looking positively disheveled. […]</i></p>
<p>  <i>We have already reached out to Malik’s representers, who declined to answer our question, and are still waiting on a reply from Payne’s, so we can only speculate about the status of their relationship, but we are positive this confirms the rumors of a blossoming romance between Malik and Payne.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	So fluorescent under these lights

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so nervous about this! Why do I hate myself and keep trying to write smut, I wonder.
> 
> I unconsciously wrote this in a verse that’s been floating around my brain, but you can read it as a generic famous!Liam/singer!Zayn kinda thing tbh (it’s not all that important really)
> 
> As always sorry for any typos/mistakes.
> 
> For [ Ambra ](http://liamstolenboxers.tumblr.com), who asked for wall sex. There is no wall here, but there’s a window! Close enough, right? 
> 
> Also, because she’s the most amazing person ever, she made the beautiful edit you can see below. 
> 
> Title from ‘Drunk in Love’ by Beyoncé (because REASONS)
> 
> *screaming while falling off a cliff* Hope you enjoy!

 

 

 

When they arrive at the building there’s a herd of flashing cameras waiting for them. Liam sighs.

“Sorry about that,” he apologizes, and Zayn smiles. Typical Liam, trying to fix something outside of his control.

“You can call your security if you want?” he suggests. “We can loop around the block for a bit, wait and see if this - he gestures at all the paparazzi standing on the pavement - clears out.”

“Nah,” Zayn says. “I just wanna get upstairs, if that’s okay with you. I think this was long overdue anyway.”

He smiles when a startled expression takes a hold of Liam’s features for a second. They’ve been dating for months now, and even if they haven’t made it official yet, Zayn thinks they’re both quite serious, with this thing between the two of them. There’s a bracelet looped around Liam’s wrist, a Valentine’s gift, that states Zayn’s intention quite clearly.

He watches Liam’s expression transition into a fond smile before he takes a deep breath.

“Ready?” he asks. Zayn nods, a mirroring smile stretching his lips.

When Liam opens his car door, the sounds of people screaming his name overwhelm him. He ignores that, tossing his keys to the doorman, who came out to greet him and try to disperse the paps. The man nods his understanding, apologizing for the chaos, but Liam politely waves him off, a ‘ _don’t worry, nothing you could do_ ’ spoken with an easy smile.

He then crosses to the other side of the car, opening the door like a gentleman, and offers a hand to Zayn, to help him climb out. He stumbles, giddy and carefree, but Liam is there to catch him.

Zayn isn’t drunk, but he had a few drinks at the party and he’s just the right level of buzzed to feel invincible, tomorrow’s headlines not a problem right now, with Liam’s arm securely wrapped around his narrow was, leading him inside.

If the screams and shouts were crazy when Liam stepped out of the vehicle, that’s nothing compared to the uproar that explodes when the cameras catch a glimpse of silver tipped hair, flashes going wild and blinding them.

Liam opens the lobby’s double door for him, a hand of the small of his back guiding him, and shuts off the racket outside.

They head straight for the lift and Liam’s punches in the code that will bring them up to the highest floor, before leisurely propping himself against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

When Zayn looks at him, he’s grinning, eyes crinkling, white teeth showing.

He walks up to him, draping himself over Liam. His arms loosely circling his torso, he leans in, kissing the line of Liam’s stubbly jaw, jokingly biting his chin. Liam giggles.

“Are you actually drunk?” he asks, voice light.

Zayn looks up at him.

“Nah,” he shrugs. “Just happy, ya know. Bit loose.”

Liam wraps his arms around him, holding him close, and they exchange lazy kisses all the way up to the penthouse.

When the lift dings, Zayn silences a groan of protest. He grabs Liam’s wrist and leads them in the living room, the doors shutting out the rest of the world.

They ignore the duffle bags sitting right inside. Someone from Zayn’s team must have brought them up for him, while he was driving straight from the airport to the party, changing in the car to surprise Liam, who wasn’t expecting him for another day and a half.

They both kick off their shoes by the door, hanging their jackets on the nearby hooks as well, before Liam’s pads over to the bar, grabbing a couple of tumblers and filling them with amber liquor. He offers one to Zayn, before slumping on the couch to sip his drink.

Zayn drains his in one go, savoring the burn down his throat, before setting the empty glass on the coffee table at Liam’s feet to head over to the window.

Zayn’s been here before, in Liam’s New York flat, but he’ll never get used to the view, the whole city spanning out before him.

He leans against the windowpane, the sight breathtaking, balancing himself with a forearm pressed to the glass.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs half-consciously.

“Never as much as you,” Liam whispers from where he’s half-sprawled on the couch.

They chat about everything and nothing for a while, Liam still sampling his drink every now and then. They talk about Zayn’s upcoming tour, sketching a loose timeline, so that Liam will see if he can fit some business trips alongside tour dates. They talk about a fundraising gala he has to attend next week and make a note to ring Zayn’s stylist to get their outfits sorted. They talk until he starts to wonder who’s gonna be the first one to break.

“I wanna fuck you,” Liam says quietly when his drink is done, tumbler clinking on the table.

It’s not as unexpected at it might seem, not taking into account they way they’ve been glancing at each other throughout the whole evening, the lingering tension sparkling in every touch of skin, the last two week spent apart. Zayn’s shoulders stiffen, his body tensing in anticipation, his breath hitching.

“Yeah?” he asks, without turning around.

“Would you let me?” Liam wonders, the rustling of fabric pre-announcing the hands on Zayn’s waist.

“You know the answer to that question already,” Zayn breaths out.

“Right here,” Liam clarifies right next to his ear. “I wanna fuck you pressed against the glass, make you shiver and beg while I hold you up against the window.”

Zayn shudders.

“Would you let me, hmm?” Liam murmurs again and Zayn nods frantically.

“Yeah, I want that,” he’s shuddering just thinking about it.

“Do you reckon we’re high enough or do you think they’ll be able to get a decent shot?” Liam asks, looking down at the still persistent photographers, who are probably camping on his doorsteps till morning, hoping for a picture of Zayn walking out, possibly disheveled and fucked out, to confirm their relationship.

“I don’t care,” Zayn says. “Let them see, let the whole world know who I belong to, yeah?”

Liam growls low in this throat, turning Zayn around and pushing him against the glass, lips fiercely taking control of the kiss he initiated as soon as Zayn’s back met the window.

When he moves back, severing the contact between their mouths, Liam steps all the way back to the couch and, smirking, starts to undress.

Zayn knows him, he knows how Liam’s like to put on a show in the bedroom sometimes, to render Zayn a useless mess before they even touch. So Zayn leans against the window, breath ragged and cock fattening up in his pants, and watches.

Liam is meticulous. He unfastens his cuffs and starts unbuttoning his shirt, one slow step at the time, driving Zayn insane. When the shirt is undone, Liam doesn’t let it fall on the ground, discarded, but he takes his sweet time folding it. The belt is next, followed by his trousers and socks, until all of his clothes are neatly piled on the coffee table, next to their empty glasses, and Liam is standing in front of him in only a tight pair of briefs and a naughty smile.

“Your turn,” he says and Zayn starts tugging at his shirt harshly.

“Stop,” Liam orders immediately. “Slow down, yeah?”

Zayn’s next inhale shutters halfway to his lungs but the fingers toying with hems and zippers slow down.

He tugs off his shirt, arms stretched over his head to deliberately show off his figure while the cloth slides over skin. Liam’s eyes are fixed on him, making him tremble from the intensity of his gaze. His own heartbeat is deafening in his ears, Liam’s eyes undressing him more effectively than his hands.

He doesn’t waste more time tidying everything up, he just lets his clothes pool at his feet, kicking them aside when they’re all on the floor.

He hesitates when his hardening cock is covered by one last layer of fabric, but Liam nods and Zayn slides that off too.

Liam doesn’t move for a few seconds, lost admiring his silhouette, backlit by city lights in the dim room.

“Bloody gorgeous,” he whispers, and Zayn isn’t sure he was supposed to hear that, because when Liam next speaks his voice is clearer. “Turn around for me, babe?” he says. “I’m gonna be right back,” he adds, heading from the bedroom.

Zayn is confused for a second before he hears the distant sound of someone rummaging through a drawer. He complies then, turning around and stepping closer to the glass, both of his forearms firmly pressed against the window for balance, his legs slightly spread, presenting himself to Liam.

The first touch of skin against skins startles him, fingers almost tickling his side, before Liam moves closer, crowding him against the windows, underwear lost someone on the way and lube clutched in one hand. Zayn shivers when cold glass touches his overheating body.

Liam gently kicks his legs wider apart, spreading them further, one hand possessively palming one of Zayn’s arse cheeks. He almost loses his balance, but Liam is a steadying presence on his back, holding him upright.

“What would you like, babe?” he asks, the sound of the lube being uncapped filling the room. “Want me to take it slow?”

He shakes his head, his blood quaking with anticipation.

“Want me to be rough?” Liam questions again. “What to feel it for days, love?”

Zayn whimpers.

“I can do that, just tell me love, or I’ll take it easy,” Liam whispers.

“Don’t—“ Zayn stammers. “ – take it easy. Don’t want it slow, not tonight,” he pleads.

“That’s okay,” Liam shushes him. “Whatever you want, angel.”

The first lubed up finger shoves into him without warning and the burn makes Zayn’s knees go weak, but Liam is already soothing him with kisses all the way down the back of his neck, and arm looped around his waist to support him while his finger moves slowly but firmly in and out of him.

He can see them both reflected in the glass, Liam’s arms around his middle, holding him close. His chest heaving, the little chain dangling from his neck. His hands spread over the windowpane, his sweaty palms sliding down an inch when Liam adds a second finger.

“You’re so tight,” Liam mumbles, lips still drawing imaginary shapes over Zayn shoulders, dotting the tattoo on the back of his neck. “You’re always so tight, babe, It drives me mad.”

Zayn lets out a sob, Liam’s fingers teasing, getting so close to that spot inside him but never reaching it. Zayn is getting quite worked up, Liam’s hard cock bumping against the back of his thighs, his own dick leaking against his belly.

“Liam,” he whispers. “ _Liam_ , I need—“

“I know,” Liam shushes him. “Need you to be a bit more patient. Don’t wanna hurt you.”

That said, Liam carefully slides his fingers out and, when the slippery press of lubed digits comes back to circles Zayn’s entrance, three of Liam’s fingers are seeking access.

Liam pushes them in slowly, so maddening slow that Zayn thinks he might lose it like that, without his cook being touched, getting off on Liam’s fingers alone, his hot breath a constant whisper on his neck.

There’s a chant of ‘ _Liam, Liam, Liam_ ,’ escaping from his lips that he can’t control, but he doesn’t care. He needs Liam closer, without any spare inch separating them.

This time, he gets a few second to adjust to the new width stretching him open before Liam backs out a bit, just to shove back in, fingers scissoring and finally hitting their mark.

Zayn barely holds in a scream, forehead falling against the glass, eyes closing and lips parting.

“ _Liam_ —“ his voice breaks over the syllables. “Li— _please_. I’m—”

“Shush,” Liam murmurs. “I know. I’m here.”

His fingers screw into Zayn one more time, to make sure he’s loose enough, and then Liam withdraws his hand. Zayn feels himself being spun around, eyes closed, his back pushed against the wall of windows. He opens his eyes to look at Liam when he feels his hands on the back of his thighs and a high pitched cry gets punched out of him when Liam just picks him up like he weighs nothing, the sheer display of strength knocking Zayn’s breath away.

He quickly hooks his arms around Liam’s neck, his legs wrapped on either side of Liam’s waist. Liam smirks at him, caging him more fully against the window, before he reaches down with the hand still smeared with lube, pinning Zayn in place to hold him upright, and grabs his cock, lining himself up.

Zayn tries to relax, the head of Liam’s dick nudging his opening, and then Liam lets go of his hold slightly and gravity does all the work for them. In one smooth motion, Liam slides home.

The moan that gets ripped out of his lungs is unexpected, the hard dick buried inside him making him boneless, and before Zayn can suck in the next inhale, Liam is lifting him up some more, hands splayed over his arse, and slamming back in all the way.

“Fuck!” Zayn screams, grabbing a handful of Liam’s hair. He uses his hold to smack their mouths together, biting at his lips, kissing him hungrily.

Liam kisses back just as fiercely, before breaking the kiss to hide his face in the crock of Zayn’s neck.

With his fingers still tangled in soft curls, Zayn braces himself for the next thrust but he’s not prepared when Liam hits his prostate dead on. They’ve been messing around for a while now, screwing each other in hotels room scattered over half the globe, and he knows Liam is quite acquainted with his body, but he’s caught off guards regardless. He throws his head back, hitting the window with a light knock, but the little jolt of pain doesn’t even register, the sound muffled but his moans.

It’s all quite hasty, just the right side of rough that makes Zayn lose control, Liam’s arms straining to hold him up, his cock driving in desperately, his pace unforgiving, searching for release and nailing Zayn’s prostate restlessly.

Zayn is shivering, his arms and legs wrapped so tightly around Liam that the lines of their bodies are blurry in his mind. He’s already so close, so bloody close after all the days spent apart, and Liam’s is too, he can tell from the way his shoulders are coiled tight, his rhythm faltering. It almost an afterthought when Liam wraps one of his hands around Zayn’s leaking cook, trapped between the perfect friction of their bodies moving together, and after a couple of firm strokes, Zayn is coming all over Liam’s fingers, a sob stuck in his throat.

“ _Liam_ ,” he says, lost in his climax. “ _Come on_ , babe,” he begs.

Liam moves his hand back, readjusting his grip over Zayn’s arse, and he slams in once, twice, Zayn’s hole clenching around his dick, riding the aftershocks of his orgasm. He stills, body tensing and teeth clamping down on Zayn’s collarbone, and then his coming too, emptying himself inside of Zayn.

They don’t move for a few seconds, both breathing heavily and trying to come back to reality. When Liam moves to slip out, Zayn feels himself sliding down the glass, Liam’s arms shaking, and they almost crash to the ground, exhausted and panting, Liam half-sitting and Zayn in his lap. It only takes a look for them both to start laughing.

“That was… intense,” Zayn stutters between giggles.

“Insane,” Liam adds, grinning.

He slumps on the floor, feeling bones and sated, his cock still nestled between Zayn’s cheek, the other lad towering over him, hands balanced on his chest and thighs bracketing his hips.

“You know,” Zayn smirks down at him. “Next time I wanna ride you. So slow, until my legs tremble and you have to finish yourself, fuck up into me because I’m too tired to slide up and down your prick anymore. Seems like a fair trade, after all your hard work, don’t you think?”

Liam’s cock makes a valiant attempt to rise again at the words but he’s too exhausted now.

“Fucking tease,” he chuckles. “Sound about right, though, making you work for it. Later maybe. Tomorrow,” he bargains.

“Let’s get cleaned up,” he prompts after a moment, trying to sort out his crumpled limbs from Zayn’s before standing up.

“Carry me?” Zayn pleads, eyes wide and bottom lip jutted out.

Liam groans like it’s a hardship but, when he gets up and walks toward the bathroom, Zayn’s in his arms.

“Bloody Batman, aren’t you?” Zayn murmurs and Liam turns his head to leave a light kiss to Zayn’s temples, hiding his smile.

—

They’re all over every single gossip site before the night is over, both their phones going crazy with notifications and alerts. They turn them off and go to bed.

—

Zayn has to leave mid-morning to go and do some interview and, as he suspected, a fair amount of photographer are still outside, eager to get their front page pictures.

There’s a car already waiting for him, so he wastes just enough time to light a fag before ducking inside, tinted windows hiding the smug quirk of his smile.

His personal assistant greets him from the other side of the backseat, looking way less pleased than him, a half read article open on the screen of her phone. She cooly hands it to him, letting him skim over fragmented pieces of his relationship with Liam, distract information about them, nothing unexpected.

“Am I to presume you’re making it official, then?” she asks.

Zayn shrugs, unperturbed, and she sighs, defeated, already drafting a statement in her note app.

—

**_Exclusive: Zayn Malik steps out of Liam Payne’s flat after hot night in Manhattan penthouse_ **

_Yesterday evening the internet caught on fire after photos of singer Zayn Malik and socialite Liam Payne entering Mr. Payne’s building in downtown reached various gossip outlet._

_The couple was spotted earlier in the evening at a party hosted by tv presenter Louis Tomlinson, known to be a long time friend of Payne, and they were reported leaving together in the infamous black Lamborghini the British hottie has been driving lately._

_The news was confirmed when they both arrived at Payne’s residence and were photographed holding hands while entering the building, looking quite intimate._

_After what we can only assume was a night of feisty intrigue, judging by the serious case of bed-hair Malik was sporting, the up-and-coming superstar stepped in the chilly New York air looking positively disheveled. He lit a cigarette before ducking into the car waiting for him, but our reporters managed to catch a glimpse of the hoodie he was wearing, definitely a few sizes too big (something he might haven borrowed from his beau… we’re left to wonder!)._

_We first spotted the pair together several months ago, looking cozy during what looked like a romantic dinner at a pretty exclusive restaurant in London. They were then spotted multiple times grabbing coffee together, during shopping trips and even walking Payne’s dog in the British capital._

_We have already reached out to Malik’s representers, who declined to answer our question, and are still waiting on a reply from Payne’s, so we can only speculate about the status of their relationship, but we are positive this confirms the rumors of a blossoming romance between Malik and Payne._

_—_

Later, when Zayn gets back to Liam’s, only a handful of paps is still there. He ducks his head and pushes down the snapback under the hood of his jumper, just to be prickly and not because he thinks it will make a difference. He enters the lift’s code and rides up to the penthouse.

Liam’s is lounging around, looking warm and comfy in ratty sweatpants and a threadbare Iron Man tee. Zayn throws his hat on the floor and snuggles closer, fishing his phone from his jeans pocket.

He kisses Liam’s on the lips.

“Hi,” he smiles, before kissing Liam’s check and snapping a photo.

“There,” he says, messing with filters on the photo app. “Let’s feed the wolves,” he declares, when he’s satisfied enough with the result to hit the post button, some silly emoji added after the caption.

 

 

 


End file.
